Fascinating
by potterafficionatada
Summary: One-shot. "She’s pretending to pay attention to the professor, but in fact she’s staring at him." She is simply entranced by him, and she can't deny the fact that she finds him fascinating. Lily and James.


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, unfortunately.**

Sometimes she just wished she didn't have to do anything. She stayed in bed and shut her eyes tightly, praying for a holiday or a miracle (it didn't really matter which) that would mean that she could just stay where she was. Peacefully. Quietly. It seems little to ask for, peace and quiet, but when you spend most of your days in boarding school where every room seems to overflow with people, it really is a rarity to be by yourself.

She sighed and opened her eyes; her vision was blurry, her throat was dry and her limbs felt rusty (she absolutely hated getting up). She dragged herself out of bed and walked blindly to the restroom, tying her hair in a messy bun and resting her hands on top of the sink. She turned on the water and splashed her face with the cool liquid and finally felt the first signs of alertness reach her (sort of). She brushed her teeth and hair and considered taking a bath but in the end discarded it for a longer breakfast (or thats what she told herself this time). She opened the door to go back to her room and get dressed when she heard him.

Everyday she heard him in the morning, she would wake up feeling like a zombie or something equally lifeless and she would hear him, working out (it wasn't normal). The boy would always finish a few minutes after she left the bathroom and once he thought she was safely inside her room getting dressed, he would leave his respective room and enter their shared bathroom wearing sweatpants and a towel (and barefoot, she noticed, he was always _always_ barefooted). She knew she shouldn't know those things (it was a bit stalkerish in her own opinion) but she couldn't resist: he made her curious. It wasn't that he was gorgeous (it wasn't that at all), it was just that while he was there, seemingly by himself, he was just so blatantly different. There, in private, he was scaringly organized (she never _ever_ would have guessed that about him), he did everything in a practical sensible way that just boggled her entirely and when he was working out, _that_ was something. He was so in control, he had a rough routine (she doubted more than a handful of people in the school could complete it) but he did it in a such steady rithym it really left her in awe.

She had never told anyone about this new habit of her (spying wasn't really something you tell people about), and she had recently come to the sad conclusion that she found him fascinating. It was just hard for her to grasp that the same boy that wrecked havoc anywhere he went and had that infectious free laugh that everyone recognized could be so put together and focused when he wanted to. So, it was only natural for her to be curious (or that's how she justified herself). It had started when they had to share their Dorms. She had, then, no desire whatsoever to live anywhere near him but she quickly conveyed that she was to be pleasantly surprised -he wasn't at all hard to live with (and, to her dismay or pleasure -she never could decide which one, _really_- he was not hard on the eyes either). The bathroom door slammed behind him and she started.

She had already given up her long breakfast and decided she didn't want to miss it altogether. She rushes up and start throwing clothes on and the moment she opens the door, he coincidentally opens his door and he reddens (his shirt is open). She whispers an embarassed "good morning" and makes a run for it, he doesn't even try to catch up and she feels her mood fall a bit. She enters the Hall extremely fast and by the time she reaches her friends her breath is uneven. They shoot her strange looks but manage not to say anything (they know better then to provoke before she's had breakfast) and she's glad she's reached safeport. But still, every time the big oak doors open, she looks.

---------------

She's pretending to pay attention to the professor, but in fact she's staring at him. Its not an easy technique to do so so discreetly that no one can ever tell she's doing it (at least she thinks so, hopes so) and it took her long practices and intricate calculus (she has to seat at a certain angle and her belongings have to be at the exact perfect location) to get her there. He seems as much bored as she is -his hand is idly doodling where he is supposed to be taking notes and his eyes seeming to be roaming the outdoors through the windows with a somewhat longing look. She notices that his friends seem occupied otherwise (Remus is fast asleep while Sirius is playing footsie with a calendar blond). She notices his shirt is wrinkled and that he has rolled up his sleeves (which is not a bad look for him at all) but what really catches her eye this time is his hair; she is completely entranced with it -its messy, as always, but in such an appealing way that it seems that the chaos works in his favor and she's pretty sure he wouldn't look so attractive if he tamed it. In a way its a suiting representation of himself, she thinks (organized chaos).

The bell rings and he prods his friend to wake him up. His other mate looks up at him and gives him a juvenile thumbs up (she gathers things are going well with the blond) and he chuckles. He slings his bag over his shoulder and the trio moves towards the door. She is still sitting there. She snaps out of her reverie and hastily shoves her things in her bag (this thing is making her sloppy) and hastily gets on her way to her next class, which is considerably less interesting (no raven locks to pass the time, no calculus necessary).

---------------

So tonight when she leaves for patrol she feels weird, the heat is doing strange things to her body and even stranger things to her mind (that include wild graphic images) and she doesn't know how she'll endure two hours of walking around the school with _him_. Despite that when nine o'clock comes she's there waiting for him. They walk together for over fifteen minutes without uttering a single word and she's about ready to throw in the towel when he stops. At first she doesn't understand what he's saying. But after a while she gets it. He wants to know why she keeps staring at him all the time. She gulps down hard (apparently her math was a bit off on that one) and feigns ignorance. He just shrugs and turns back front and starts walking again. She feels completely devastated (_crushed _even) and cannot for the life of her make her feet move. When he is a couple meters ahead he stops, noticing that she is not following. His hazel eyes bore into hers. She does not know why she said it.

"I can't help it." Those four words just tumble out of her mouth and she feels two inches tall.

"What?" His baritone voice asks making her feel even smaller.

"I can't help staring at you." She answers boldly but at the same time her face is burning. "I tried".

"I see." That's his simple answer but she thinks she saw his lips twitch upwards just a tiny bit. Then she sees nothing more.

---------------

She barely feels the rough wall behind her, because really her focus is elsewhere. Like on those arms she envied doing push-ups that are now pushing her against the wall, and on how soft his hair feels in her hand and she feels content because she knows it is now as chaotic as ever (and she somehow is part of his chaotic order). She loves it, and she loves it when his lips find hers; every time a new fire, every time a sweet demand and its complete and utter rapture being there, like she is flying. She feels his calloused hands on her waist and on her cheek and she feels so warm and fuzzy, but at the same time it feels like she just ran ten miles and can't move a single inch. He rests his forehead against hers and she misses his lips even though they're just a centimeter away. She is still holding his neck, a bit forcefully even, but she can't let go. She feels his face stretch into a smile and so she lifts her eyes to look at his: big mistake. His eyes have that laser quality, they cut right through her and she's lost and broken and mended all at once. His fingers caress her cheek and she closes her eyes escaping him, protecting her secrets because she knows he can see. But it doesn't matter, really, because she knows she would tell him everything, she would do anything, if he asked her. And that's scary and beautiful. And Lily finally understands she is in love. And its just fascinating.

_**PS: I love reviews (who doesn't?), so please tell me what you think.**_


End file.
